


She's In Your Bones

by Mackem



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bickering, Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: He jerks back into a confused, half-alert state with an alarmed shriek, and scrambles to curl up against the headboard in a protective ball. Whatever it is that struck him follows and whacks him again, this time across the top of his head. He grabs at it, more out of instinct than actually wanting to make contact, and finds himself struggling with… something silky?Wait…His eyes focus in the darkness, and the shape pulling at his hands resolves into that of the Umbra Staff. His eyes track down the length of the handle, trying to make out who the hell dares to wield his own staff against him, but he finds…nobody. Nothing. There is only the Umbra Staff, hovering fitfully in the air.





	She's In Your Bones

**Author's Note:**

> I managed another fic... sooner or later this productive streak will die, but until then, I'm gonna ride it like the railroads.
> 
> Tagging this on here got me to ponder aloud, "Does an umbrella count as a character?" I've erred on the side of caution in that regard, but this is very much set before Taako realises anything is up with the Umbra Staff, so no direct Lup action, I'm afraid. The prompt that inspired this fic is "dream". The title comes from 'Only In Dreams' by Weezer. Rating is purely for language.

Elves don’t need sleep.

 

It’s a fact. It’s basic elven biology. Anybody who knows even the smallest scraps of trivia about elves could tell you that. Elves don’t need sleep. That includes Taako.

 

What Taako _does_ need is the occasional solid eight hours without people demanding his attention, thank you very much. Taako’s patience is a finite resource; get it while you can, folks, ‘cause it sure as hell ain’t gonna last long. There’s only so much time he can spend around other people before something inside him snaps and he finds himself craving the solitude afforded by lurking in his bedroom. Sometimes he meditates; sometimes he merely locks the door and escapes from the world with a fine wine and the latest Fantasy Chuck Tingle novel.

 

It’s probably all a result of his youth, this occasional craving for seclusion. You don’t grow up in a traveling caravan with more people than food to go around, surrounded by twitchy thugs willing to forcibly redress that balance at only the slightest provocation, without valuing your space.

 

Since the Reclaimers – and boy howdy, isn’t _that_ something, an entire organisation hanging their hat on the idea that Taako and his idiot companions can be competent for months at a time without anybody else to take up the slack – got their own private living quarters, Taako has found it easier to be around people. Now he has regular access to space he can truly call his own, he hasn’t been so frustrated.

 

That doesn’t mean he can’t still be pushed into needing time away from people.

 

It finally happens one day when, after a morning spent busting his butt in the Icosagon, then an afternoon reluctantly training an extremely enthused boy detective to cast minor illusion, he withdraws to their quarters only to find Merle in a preaching mood.

 

God, he’s dense. Taako does his best to pointedly ignore him, giving out solid waves of I’m Not Listening as he makes himself a cup of tea, but Merle refuses to read the room.

 

Nevertheless, Taako settles himself on the couch in their shared living space. It’s the most comfortable furniture they own, all velvety-soft cushions yet superb lumbar support, and Taako is feeling kind of achy after dodging attacks and throwing spells all morning. His polish is chipped, too, and that won’t do; Taako has an image, and sub-par nails are _not_ part of that. He reaches for his nail kit, and does his best to tune Merle out.

 

It’s not so hard. He finds he’s not even half-listening as Merle drones on and on about Pan. He concentrates on refreshing his manicure as Merle rambles tediously about one set of hoofprints in the sand, as though Taako’s first priority on a beach would be anything other than hunting out the best tiki bar.

 

Even when Merle moves onto an impromptu interpretive dance which he assures Taako illustrates his personal Pan experience – which, it would seem, involves way more jazz hands than he anticipated in a pastor-to-Pan relationship – Taako does not find it too taxing to ignore him. He _does_ contemplate writing “QUIET MERLE” across his nails, but it’s manageable. Taako can drown him out easily enough.

 

Until the singing begins.

 

Taako’s eyes rise from his manicure in growing disbelief. Merle has positioned himself directly opposite him, and is making significant, earnest eye contact as he warbles what sounds like “thank Pan for Pan,” loud enough to bounce off the walls. Taako’s ears twitch as Merle’s gravelly voice makes an unrepentant attack at a tune, which seems to be fighting back valiantly. This is an audio battle, and Taako is the first casualty.

 

His patience abruptly goes up in smoke. Taako reaches for the Umbra Staff, and casts blink.

 

The world resolves into the ethereal plane’s familiar shades of grey. Merle realises he’s disappeared almost immediately, and Taako slumps back in his seat with a sigh of relief when the cacophony ends with a confused yelp. Merle looks around in alarm as Taako hauls himself upright and backs across the room. “Taako?!”

 

“Taako’s not here, man,” Taako mutters unheard in return, tucking the Umbra Staff beneath his arm. He watches Merle pick up the couch cushions and peer suspiciously behind them and chooses then to reappear in the doorway to his bedroom. “I need a nap,” he says flatly, and sticks out his tongue as Merle spins to face him with a cry. He takes great satisfaction in the outraged expression he sees dawning on Merle’s face as he slams the door behind him.

 

“Well there’s no need to be rude!” he hears through the wood. “Anyway, you elves don’t even sleep!”

 

“You drove me to try it!” he snaps in return, giving the door a kick to emphasize his point. “Hey, homie, get this - I would _rather be unconscious_ than listen to you for a second longer!”

 

He hears muffled grumbling, but Merle apparently has no satisfactory comeback, so Taako chalks this up as a win for cha’boy and throws himself onto his bed.

 

The urge to meditate looms large. He’s done well in ignoring him for as long as he he did, but Merle’s unceasing proselytising has worn away his last nerve, and he feels as though his tense muscles could jitter apart. A few hours of rest and isolation sound a-okay right now.

 

He tosses his hat across the room, sets the Umbra Staff leaning against the wall with more care, and flops onto his bed, fully intending to meditate well into next week.

 

It lasts about an hour, he thinks. Long enough for his mind to clear, and for the stress to fade from his limbs. His thoughts are drifting pleasantly, and at first, he does not even notice that anything unusual is happening at all. When he becomes distantly aware that he can hear something rustling, he dismisses it as Merle moving around outside his door.

 

Until something smacks him across the shins.

 

He jerks back into a confused, half-alert state with an alarmed shriek, and scrambles to curl up against the headboard in a protective ball. Whatever it is that struck him follows and whacks him again, this time across the top of his head. He grabs at it, more out of instinct than actually wanting to make contact, and finds himself struggling with… something silky?

 

Wait…

 

His eyes focus in the darkness, and the shape pulling at his hands resolves into that of the Umbra Staff. His eyes track down the length of the handle, trying to make out who the hell dares to wield his own staff against him, but he finds…nobody. Nothing. There is only the Umbra Staff, hovering fitfully in the air.

 

He lets go in astonishment, and winces as the staff cuffs him atop the head again. The blow is not hard enough to cause any damage; it feels more like his assailant is trying to get his attention.

 

Suddenly, Taako realises that his ears are twitching helplessly, swivelling back and forth as though trying to pick up a sound from a great distance away - but he hears nothing beyond the swishing of the Umbra Staff’s furled canopy. He claps his hands over his trembling ears as a growing fuzziness blankets his mind, leaving him gritting his teeth as his thoughts scatter.

 

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but could you chill out for a hot second?” he demands, his voice closer to a petulant shriek than he’d like to admit as his mind is buffeted. His eyes dart around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of somebody – was that a shadowy figure by the door? No, he left his bathrobe hanging there, _shit_ , where _is_ this asshole? – but he screws them shut instinctively as a furious shower of red sparks burst from the tip of the Umbra Staff with his words. They spray down over him and he yelps, rolling frantically around on the bed to extinguish any flames. He’s managed to ball himself up in the blanket before he realises he isn’t so much as singed.

 

“Hey, not cool,” he grumbles, his heart pounding as he struggles to untangle himself from the bedcovers. He gets his head free and wriggles until an arm follows suit, and promptly casts detect magic, expecting to see the form of somebody invisible light up.

 

He sees nobody.

 

His room is, of course, filled with various magical trinkets and clothing, and duly lights up like a Candlenights bush, but while the staff itself is suddenly wreathed in an aura, Taako cannot resolve anything into the shape of a person who could be controlling it. He frowns, watching as the staff flounces back from him, bouncing across his bed with a shaky open-and-shut of its canopy; he can feel a weirdly palpable sense of frustration emanating from it. “What the _fuck_ ,” he breathes, and it shakes irritably in return.

 

A fuzzy sense of pressure floods the air again, and his ears begin their neurotic, helpless straining as they struggle to pick anything out of somehow oppressive atmosphere. “Hey!” he snaps, wincing as he fights to make sense of this whole shitfest, “I’m not sure who the _hell_ you are, but-“

 

Taako yelps as the Umbra Staff rattles its spokes furiously, and flies directly towards his face. He struggles to dodge it, limbs flailing in their blanket prison, and manages to send himself soaring off the side of his bed.

 

His forehead takes the force of the blow, and Taako slumps down with a dizzy groan as darkness swoops up to meet him. The last thing he sees before he falls unconscious is the Umbra Staff flitting over him, with a suddenly sheepish manner to its rustling.

 

When he wakes, it is with a heartfelt groan, and a throbbing headache. He finds himself sprawled awkwardly on the floor, cocooned in both his blanket and a sense of confusion. After a minute or so spent wondering fuzzily why the hell he was communing with his bedroom floor, the memory swims back into his mind. The effect is electric; Taako scrambles upright, looking around frantically.

 

To his astonishment, the Umbra Staff is precisely where he left it when he lay down to meditate, leaning innocently against the wall.

 

Taako freezes for a second at the sight of it, pre-emptively ducking to avoid further attacks. When nothing is forthcoming, he backs slowly across the room, his feet picking through scattered piles of clothing with practiced ease as he keeps narrowed eyes fixed on the Umbra Staff.

 

He presses himself up against his bedroom door, keeps one hand tight on the doorknob, and uses the other to cast mage hand. After a deep breath which does nothing to settle his clanging nerves, he uses the glowing purple hand to prod gingerly at the Umbra Staff, already cringing back in anticipation.

 

Nothing happens.

 

His lips twist into a scowl, and this time the mage hand deals an open-palmed smack to the curved wooden handle. The Umbra Staff slides down the wall and hits the floor with a muted thump.

 

Still nothing happens.

 

Taako abruptly turns on his heel and dashes out of the room, too rattled to bother closing the door behind him.

 

Merle looks up at his arrival, still ensconced on the couch with his Extreme Teen Bible in his lap. His initial scowl melts into a confused frown as Taako drops down beside him, perched tense and taut with wide eyes darting around the room. “What the hell happened to you?”

 

“Nothing,” Taako snaps, trying to still the shaking of his hands. His eyes slide over to Merle as he scoffs.

 

“You coulda fooled me. You marched outta your bedroom like the devil was at your heels. You sure nothing happened in there?” Merle asks, reluctant concern cutting through his gruff words.

 

Taako hesitates. He can see inside his room from where he’s hunched on the couch, and he can make out the Umbra Staff lying beside the tangle of blankets he left on the floor. He watches it for a long moment, his eyes fixed and unblinking in case it moves, or shakes, or – or _anything_.

 

In a continuing theme, nothing happens.

 

“What the hell is going on?” demands Merle, and Taako reluctantly turns to face him.

 

“Cool your jets, homie, nothing happened,” he claims, doubt gnawing at his mind. “I think… hey, listen, you dwarf types sleep, right? You ever have bad dreams? That’s a thing, right? You ever get that?”

 

“Oh, sure,” Merle says with a shrug. “Real bad ones, sometimes. I’ve been known to wake up drenched in sweat.”

 

“Gross-a-roonie,” Taako mutters, trying not to picture that. He prods himself in the forehead, and winces; it’s definitely gonna bruise. “You ever have a dream so bad that you, like… fell outta bed?”

 

“Once or twice, yeah. I’ve seen people take crazy tumbles in their sleep. One time my brother-in –“ Merle cuts himself off and gives Taako a sharp look. Taako, who could not give less of a shit about Merle’s personal life, gives him a blank look until Merle huffs again. “ _Somebody I knew_ once fell outta bed and broke his wrist when he hit the ground. Why? Is that what happened to you?” he asks, brow wrinkling as he thinks this over. “Wait, can you even _have_ nightmares if you’re doin’ your fancy-ass mediating?”

 

“I guess?” Taako says vaguely, with a tight shrug. “I don’t know, I… I lay down to meditate, and then…” He hesitates as Merle watches him closely. What _had_ happened, really? He can feel a vicious pounding in his head, and his thoughts are sluggish, and jumbled. Had he fallen because he was suddenly attacked by his own staff, or had he fallen out of bed and then experienced some kind of crazy dream as a result of knocking himself out? He sighs, and shakes his throbbing head. “Then I guess I fell outta bed? I woke up on the floor. My head’s kinda fuzzy, I don’t know.”

 

Merle rolls his eyes. “Y’probably managed to give yourself a concussion,” he growls, and Taako latches onto this like it’s a lifeline.

 

“Y’know, that sounds about right,” he says slowly, piecing this together. “That’d explain, like, seeing things, right?”

 

“Uh-huh, I guess,” Merle says. “If you got yourself real messed up in the noggin, you might start hallucinating, sure.”

 

Taako takes a deep breath and holds it. He exhales slowly, and lets himself sag back into the couch cushions beside Merle. He has a lingering headache, and a pervasive sense of ridiculousness from waking up on his own bedroom floor, but he finds himself laughing. Merle gives him a confused look, and Taako shakes his hand dismissively.

 

“Hey, here’s a wild idea,” he says, his smile brilliant despite the ache in his head. “How about you try a little something we call ‘healing magic’ on your boy Taako? Does that ring any bells? Lemme say it again, it’s probably not something you’re familiar with: _heeeeaaaaaling_ ,” he drawls, and Merle’s glower is something to be seen.

 

He does cough up a healing spell, though, and Taako’s headache soon dissipates. He stretches like a cat, and gives Merle a lazy grin. “Thanks, old bean.”

 

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome,” Merle growls, but soon brightens up and fingers the Extreme Teen Bible in his lap. “Maybe now _I_ did _you_ a favour, you’ll listen to what I have to say about Pan? I’m telling you, Taako, I think you’ll find Pan could bring a lot to your life,” he wheedles.

 

Taako rolls his eyes, before an idea strikes. He glances at the hefty book, and gives Merle a winning smile. “Y’know, compadre, lectures aren’t exactly my cup of oolong, but I’ve been known to read a book or two in my time. Comes with the wizard territory, y’get me?”

 

Merle gives him a surprised look. “You wanna borrow my bible?”

 

“Just for awhile,” Taako says, letting a note of pleading bleed into his voice. “Maybe if I’m, like, an active participant and drink it in that way, I’ll… feel his vibe, or something?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah!” Merle beams, and holds the book out. “But I need it back by –“

 

Taako has it snatched up before Merle can finish speaking, and leaves the room with it clutched in his hands. He strides into his bedroom and drops the book atop the Umbra Staff with a hefty thump, satisfied with the weight of it atop the canopy.

 

“I’ll just leave it right here on my bedside table!” he calls, even though he’s certain Merle can see into the room. “Can’t wait to get stuck into this bad boy!” He mimes the universal gesture for ‘I’m watching you’ at his staff, gives it the finger for good measure, and slams the door behind him as he leaves the room.

 

He leans up against it with a relieved sigh, and smirks at Merle as he gives him a confused look. “Thanks,” he drawls. “I can already tell Pan’s gonna bring me _great_ peace of mind.”


End file.
